


Cat and Mouse

by YukitenTheDark



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Death, Demons, F/M, Gore, Sex, the obvs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 08:05:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukitenTheDark/pseuds/YukitenTheDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's not much going for Bianca, having her home just been destroyed by the Temen-ni-Gru (though, of course, she doesn't know the name). All she's got is herself and her safe place on Devil's Corner, the creepy spot in town. Up until now, the place she hid herself away in has been vacant, which was why she could hide there so often. But a strange, white-haired man has set up shop there, accompanied by two others. Both equally as strange as the new man. Demons and evil spirits have begun to show up and kill people everywhere in the wake of the risen tower. Frightened little Mouse Bianca is, she has no choice but to follow them. Or she'll die. But...little does she know there's a lot in store for her, not just the white-haired man. [[For all you perverts out there, there MAY be a lemony lemon scene in this. Maybe.]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bianca was always the frightened little mouse of every situation, cowering in the shadows of the brave, weak and defenseless. And she knew it. She knew she was a coward. She couldn't do anything but hide or run away, stay quiet, shrink into the darkness and stay out of the way, out of sight and out of mind. No one has use for a coward, right? So, she runs and she ducks for cover, ass over tea-kettle every time, just to provide an illusion that told her she was safe. But it was an illusion. She was never safe, so she keeps running. Running and running and running.

By now, running had become instinct. There was no 'fight or flight', just flight. She runs at the smallest hint of danger, refusing to have any part of it. She moves from town to town, looking for some place safe to hide, always turning up empty handed. Having to go home to her mother every time. And then she'd run away again, seek refuge in the most dangerous yet safest place in town (if only for a short time), the vacant space on Devil's Corner. Nothing ever thrived there that wasn't a weird mystical shop or a bar. There were a lot of rumors about it, too. Rumors of rapes, murders, thefts, and sightings of ghosts and other such nonsense. Bianca never believed them. That was her safe place.

She drew in the toxic smoke of her cigarette and exhaled, staring down the rubble of her home. But it wasn't really her home. It was her mother's, the cause of her cowardice. The woman was... unkind, to say the least, and left much to be desired concerning the quality of a person. Bianca could do no right, no matter how hard she tried, constantly getting beaten and put down. She was afraid, now, to meet new people (not that you could trust any in this day and age, anyway), to go to job interviews, to explore new places. Terrified, even, because no matter what she did, she was worthless in her mother's eyes. She never wanted to meet the woman's expectations. She wanted to be her own person. And she was penalized greatly for it. 

She wrinkled her nose, eyeballing the wood nestled in the metal and glass. Broken picture frames, burnt fabrics, snapped electrical cords, and water spouts freckled the ruins. Blood splotches here and there, too, and just the mere glimpse of it made her skin crawl. Another drag on her cancer stick. She hated blood. Not because it was disgusting and could possibly give a person AIDS, but because she knew exactly what happened to the people who used to have those very same splotches of blood coursing through their veins. She knew who and what did it, and she didn't care.

A tower, ruined and broken by age and constant rising and falling, shot up from the earth in one fell swoop. It seemed to be more like an earthquake that came, because it shook the town to its stone foundations. But, mostly, the suburban areas were left in wretched disarray. There were no big city towers anymore, just the big one taking over the heart. Hardly any people here, now. Either dead or evacuated. What was left would be unoccupied, survivors relocated. 

'Had the apocalypse come already?' Bianca wondered indifferently. This was perhaps one of the only moments in her life she would feel no fear, no pressure, no sense of tomorrow or even the now. In one way or another, the tower had liberated her. The caged mouse was now a free one, released into the wild by an otherwise unknown force, much like God did to his followers. Wound them up and watched them go, only to be disappointed and ruin their loves when they didn't follow his 'master plan'. Also, similar to now. One moment of freedom and right into the next set of chains of entrapment. It was like never having had freedom to begin with. 

She'd lived her life without it all this time. What difference does it make of she doesn't have it now?

She blinked her almond eyes and closed them, taking a last hit off her cigarette and flicking the butt into the water pooling in the wreckage of her old home. Exhale. As the smoke left her lungs, the blonde spun on her heels and looked ahead, eyes falling on the street sign leading to the only place she ever felt safe - Devil's Corner.


	2. Chapter 2

It was dark. It had been ever since that tower rose from the depths of hell, bringing with it an onslaught of decay and demonic creatures, spirits and devils. Darkness was now the norm, the only light visible coming from houses abandoned or left untouched by the destructive force of the tower and its...companions, which were flitting about the city like they owned it. Actually, more like they were looking for something, or someone. Striking fear into each remaining city dweller - or brutally killing them. 

Bianca'd seen every bit of it since she left her mother's ruined house, and every last bit of it terrified her.

Blood ran in the gutters of the streets, staining the cement with intermingling dark maroons and bright reds. What wasn't consumed by the evil parading around the city was ultimately left in the streets, a display laid out for all who still remained to see, only to be forgotten and seen by only those who look where they're going. And no one chose to look, if any came by at all. Children especially. They were often blindfolded or warned not to look, but they were becoming a rare commodity in this new world, so few of them were seen to begin with. 

The staggering loss of children was enough to drive a person mad, as it should. The entire situation was enough to drive the whole world mad, let alone a few people. Bianca couldn't stand it. Blood was a mere blip on her radar when compared to children. They were the world's future and history, slowly being snuffed out bit by bit. Lives go without living, families go without thriving, and relationships go unmade. The world goes without changing.

Bianca sighed softly, the silence hanging in the air disrupted. Not even the subtle squeaks of the city rats could be heard, nor the gurgled screams of dying refugees, as if the eye of the storm had made its way to the town, providing the illusion of safety. 'The coast is clear.' But it wasn't. Bianca knew, ducking into the shadows and hiding from the street lights. She knew the evil creatures were flitting about, even if she hadn't seen one yet. They were still there. That alone was enough to keep her on edge and in hiding. She breathed slowly and quietly, taking careful steps in the tiny lawns belonging to the city houses, clad in mismatched socks and summer clothes.

The night was warm and quiet, the air sticky and humid. It screamed danger, false safety. And the blood from the day's demonic massacre hung in the air, clinging to Bianca's skin and dampening her clothes. Her feet were soaked to the bone by now, her heart thumping erratically in her chest. She looked ahead of her frantically, eyeing the vacant space across from her at the end of the street. It was only a few hundred feet away. And she told herself that, twisting the words in her mind to make them sound minuscule. Like nothing could happen in the space of the ten minutes it took to walk those few hundred feet. 

And still she hid in the shadows. 

She couldn't bring herself to look in the street, knowing all too well what she'd see. Chills ran down her spine at the mere mention of what could possibly be there. She knew. It was filled to the brim with the blood and guts of unknowing passersby and refugees, children and adults alike. Intestines strewn about like tinsel around a Christmas tree, hearts tossed around like bloody ornaments, and teeth and bones for the lights. She knew that it was all laid out for the world to see, and it broke her frightened heart. She told herself over and over not to look, stick to the shadows, hide. Hide, hide, hide. It was her mantra. It was safety. It was her deceit, self betrayal.


	3. Bleed the Broken

But there is no safety in words.

Bianca's eyes found the flashing neon lights at the corner of the street, where her safety net ways placed. She found it odd, for only a handful of minutes ago was the street completely vacant. How could anyone find the time to set up shop now, especially on Devil's Corner? Especially when the evil tower erected not even a mile away! How stupid were these people? Did they have a death wish?

She huffed softly, quiet as a mouse, and shook her head.

They were probably here to help, she told herself. They knew what they were getting into the moment they decided to get into it, much like these devils. Dancing around with blood on their hands and bones between their teeth. The people taking up residence here in the city on her precious corner must have known full well that this wouldn't be easy... She thought of them as exterminators. They could possibly be exterminators. Yes, that had to be it.

Because, if not, who was going to save the city?

A hiss broke through the silence, overpowering her soft breaths and even softer footsteps, and a freezing air touched her skin. Fear tickled her nerves and she let out a whimper, her hands shooting up to her mouth to silence it. Her heart raced against her rib cage, beating against it like a ferocious drum. And under a streetlight stepped the most hideous and frightening creature Bianca had ever seen. Blood poured from its mouth all twisted in a jagged grin, teeth mangled and sharp, and its eyes a piercing violet, narrow and void of humanity. Dressed in nothing but torn red robes and thick straps, it held onto a gnarled scythe like its hands had melded with the rusted metal. She blinked at it a few moments, fear completely overtaking her. It knew she was afraid and its evil grin widened, spreading its feet apart in the pool of blood it stood in, as if preparing to chase after its prey like a cat did a mouse. Hungry and frothing at the mouth. A disease ridden dog blindly snapping its jaws at whatever lay in front of it.

A shiver ran down her spine and she took a step back, her heart trying its damnedest to burst out of her chest. She couldn't breathe. This was what all those poor children had seen before their tiny souls were snatched from their bodies. This is what they had to look forward to when they left their homes to run away. This is what she had to look forward to. Her death was staring her in the face and she couldn't even breathe. She couldn't stand against it, defy it, cheat it. She stood no chance anyway.

She was going to die.

Hot tears stung her eyes and a tight knot rose in her throat. The demon took a step forward, a sickening crack sounded underneath its mottled, enormous foot, the bones of the dead shattering. Her blood ran cold and she grew stiff. She knew it. She knew it, she knew it, she knew it. It chuckled at her and flashed before her, poised with its scythe at her throat and its face in hers. And now that she could see it so clearly, she saw her fate splayed out before her in its ill violet eyes.

A flurry of claws and fingers flew into her blond hair, bringing with them white hot pain and a jerking pull. And she'd never felt such pain, not even from all those times her mother beat her. She screamed at the top of her lungs.

It cackled. "Lookit what we've got 'ere," it squealed, its voice a twisted laugh at best. Like it enjoyed what it was doing far too much. It tightened its grip on Bianca's hair and breathed in her face, drool and blood dripping from the spaces between its teeth.

She screamed once more and threw her hands up to the demon's clasping her hair in an effort to lessen the pain. She struggled, her head pounding and her scalp burning. It only laughed in her face.

"The scared mousy spawn of 'at traitor's most trusted friend, eh? I can only imagine how great you'll taste, lit'le mousy." The demon cackled, clotted blood splattering across her skin and clothes, and the cool metal of its scythe was lifted from her throat. It let go of her hair and she fell to the ground with a pained yelp, splashing into the river of blood in the streets, crying and crying and crying some more. Her heart beat was outrageously hard and fast, beating against her rib cage like an angry man beats on a drum in war time. And it all hurt so bad.

She just cried. 

And through her tears she did see the glint of the demon's scythe in the blood, flashing above her to deliver that killing blow she knew would come. Her heart skipped beat after beat, pounding in her chest, and her head throbbed with it. Tears fell like the rain. She knew she was going to die. She knew it, and she could never be told otherwise. She saw it in its eyes, smelled it on its breath. She knew it. And in no more than four seconds would she be dead. Dead. She'd never come back.

Oh gods, why did it have to sound so permanent? It was only stasis, a time for rest before rebirth or heaven. That's all. But she'd never return. She herself, in this body and this life, would never come back. She gazed into her reflection in the blood, ignoring the pain and fear now, and waited for that slow-motion blade to run her through, slice off her head, or slit her throat. She waited. She cried, but she waited.

And just as the cool blade met her skin--

"Woohoho! Not today, buddy!"

Gun shot.


End file.
